


Keep we must, if keep we can

by JanaRumpandRCJawnn (JanaRumpandRCJawwn)



Series: A hundred sonnets [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Gen, M/M, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Religious Discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 02:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15876660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanaRumpandRCJawwn/pseuds/JanaRumpandRCJawnn
Summary: His musings were suddenly interrupted when Nikolai gestured for him to get closer, request Viktor took as an order as was due. “He’s a good one, this governess of ours, don’t you agree?”He could hardly enthuse over how Katsuki Yuuri had had his heart ever since the moment they'd met, so instead he just nodded politely and whispered back. “That he is, sir.”-Viktor finds himself deeply enamored, both with the new addition to the Plisetsky manor and by a mysterious writer after his own heart





	Keep we must, if keep we can

**Author's Note:**

> In which Viktor is next level thirsty

Master Nikolai had always been very adamant that Viktor learn how to play instruments and dance properly, said he could see the potential in him to be an amazing artist, even if Viktor could never dream to allow himself to pursue something like this. So when Yuuri (as he called the governess in his mind, with familiarity Viktor only wished he was allowed to have in reality) suggested he aid in young Yuri’s dancing lessons, Viktor was delighted to actually be useful. He had been wanting to interact more with the lovely new household member, but hadn’t had much luck in coming up with reasons to linger closer. Master Nikolai had been more than happy to grant him time to invest in his grandson’s education, in fact insisting to be present for it as well. 

And now here they were, in the ballroom. Yuuri was wearing his blue dress, the one Viktor supposed to be his favorite given the amount of times it had made an appearance. It had him looking absolutely enchanting, a dress of better quality than any of those Viktor had ever had, but it had obviously been worn its fair share. 

Young Master Yuri stood grumpily off center, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I don’t know why I need Viktor and Grandfather here.” The boy’s countenance betrayed how spoiled he was, but the governess remained unmoved. “I’m not that bad.”

Yuuri smirked subtly, impressing Viktor in this display confidence, so different from his usual shyness. “I do agree your technical skills are surely quite good, but I don’t think you understand the more communicative side of dancing. The day will come when you’ll have to dance to support your intentions and your station, and the picture you painted in last week’s lesson was dire. I have never seen someone so clearly displaying their distaste through frame and steps.” 

Viktor had no difficulty imagining the scene, as it sounded exactly like their boy. Yuri didn’t cease the discussion there, of course, as usual in search of maintaining the upper hand. “Well, that’s simply due to my dance partner in the occasion.” 

On the back of his hand Viktor hid a laugh, because no doubt anyone dancing with Yuuri should consider themselves lucky. He himself was elated to be here, no matter how the prospect of mere touch shouldn’t be so appealing.

“I guess we will see. First, Mister Nikiforov and I will dance and show how you must do it properly, then we can switch and I’ll guide you towards improvement.” Yuuri turned to Viktor with a smile, not permitting another retort. “Are you familiar with the leading position? I must confess I don’t have a lot of experience myself.”

Viktor thanked the heavens for his ample practice at just that, a couple years back when Mila had insisted on learning to dance in jest, as if headed to one of the manor’s seldom used ballrooms with a party in full swing. He simply nodded for the moment, bowing in courtesy to this most captivating man in front of him. Viktor had always dreamt of getting to have a proper dance with another omega, this opportune situation pushing his heart to a fast paced drumming. 

When their hands first touched, Viktor could almost feel a spark between them, Yuuri’s warmth practically ascending his soul to heaven. A soft hand that had never seen a day of hard work held secure onto Viktor’s, while the other settled on his shoulder. He had to restrain himself lest he press too fervently against Yuuri’s waist , not sparring enough concentration to properly subdue his smile at being able to do so. Impure thoughts, much too crass for such a cultured company, ran rampant despite his will. How he wanted this to be something else, to be permitted to embrace this man closer still. Distinctly silly fantasies that should never see the light of day. 

Their paces were perfectly matched, no one had ever danced so well with Viktor as Yuuri was right at that moment. There was no music playing, but that didn’t hinder them. Yuuri looked quite pleased in his arms, and Viktor held onto composure if only because he didn’t want Master Nikolai to perceive the depth of his delight, couldn’t entertain the notion of bringing shame to the man that had given him so many opportunities. It was mighty hard not just getting lost in Yuuri’s eyes, however. 

The set ended and they stepped away from each other, bowing as was expected. Nikolai’s friendly clapping matched the rhythm of his heavy breaths, which he masked as much as possible to take his proper position at the man’s side. 

“Thank you, Mr. Nikiforov, that was perfect.” Yuuri praised, blush faint on his cheeks. “You’re an amazing dancer.”

Viktor limited himself to an amiable nod in response. “I can only hope young Master Yuri was able to get anything from this demonstration.” He teased the boy, who just rolled his eyes, querulous as usual. 

Yuuri then started instructing his pupil into frame, Nikolai watching fond as his grandson complied despite himself. The love he had for this child was quite obvious, something Viktor had always admired. He missed having his own family, even if he had Yakov, for his uncle wasn’t by far as affectionate as his mothers once were. He wondered how Yuuri could have left his own family to come this far away, he had to be so much stronger than Viktor himself.

His musings were suddenly interrupted when Nikolai gestured for him to get closer, request Viktor took as an order as was due. “He’s a good one, this governess of ours, don’t you agree?”

He could hardly enthuse over how Katsuki Yuuri had had his heart ever since the moment they'd met, so instead he just nodded politely and whispered back. “That he is, sir.”

-

Viktor hadn’t been able to write anything for the past fortnight, which was a shame, but his mind was much too focused on all the changes to behold in his life. And even if he _had_ managed, there hadn’t been any opportunity for him to go into town and pass a letter onto Christophe (Lilia had been remarkably sour for one reason or another, so his usual means wasn’t an option). So when Leo came back to the manor from the market, having also brought them the day’s paper, Viktor didn’t pay it any mind. Mila was obviously excited though, humming to herself when she came to serve Master Nikolai’s lunch.

It had been a tiring night, Master Nikolai’s troubled sleep disallowing his own rest, for Viktor remained awake through long hours by the older omega’s side, attempting to give him comfort. As he finally made into the staff quarters, all its youths were gathered. Including Yuuri, seeming to have just recently arrived and sat dainty beside Mila. The maid herself glowed in enthusiasm. 

“Viktor, join us at once before Lilia gets back.” The demand was hasty, so he complied without questioning, now eager to know what this was about.

Georgi handed Viktor a small plate as he sat on the luckily open seat next to Yuuri on the couch, having thoughtfully saved him dinner. Yuuri looked happy to have him there, judging by his angelic little smile, or perhaps that was just wishful thinking. Mila then finally unfolded the newspaper, hunching closer to the candle light. 

“I met with Minami earlier in town.” Leo pitched in. “He was most excited by this new writer Mister Giacometti is in correspondence with, said it’s sure to be a direct answer to Psique’s last poem.”

Viktor thanked years of practice in keeping a neutral expression. A reply? Never in his wildest dreams had he dared to truly hope for one. He wanted Mila to read it already so badly, still he couldn’t let his interest become evident, even if these people were his family. That would be too much vulnerability, too much exposition of his fragile secrets. 

The moment the poem begun to be read, Viktor was honestly shocked. It was raw and potent, spoke to his very soul in a very particular level for which he hadn’t been prepared. As Mila came to its close, verses kept spinning around Viktor’s mind, repeating themselves in a entrapping chant.

_let God and man decree_  
Laws for themselves and not for me;  
And if my ways are not as theirs  
Let them mind their own affairs.  
Their deeds I judge and much condemn,  
Yet when did I make laws for them? 

Of Mila’s commentary he breathlessly waited to catch this miracle’s pen name: Eros. Leo was obviously distraught by it, good religious boy he was - a young man who conformed so perfectly to what was asked of him, seemingly never deviant in needs or desires. There were days Viktor wished he could be more like him. His eyes moved to Yuuri then, perfectly composed, probably already familiar with all kinds of writings from his extensive studies. Viktor’s own caged heart insisted to flutter at not finding any disgust in this man’s eyes, if only for feeding his unreasonable fantasies of someday being accepted and loved for who he was.

“So, what should we do, Viktor?” Mila’s question brought him back to the situation ahead of him, confusing at first. But at last he got what was expected of him, as the most senior between them, Mila’s tension as she clutched the paper making it quite obvious. 

“Well, we shouldn’t have Lilia know we’ve been reading such things, I doubt she or my uncle would condone it. It _would_ be a shame to get rid of it, though.” He added as if it was an afterthought, pretending to ponder for a moment. “I suppose I could take it, if only to make sure none of you would be in trouble.” The maid beamed at him and handed Viktor the page very carefully, like she was handing him something precious.

-

He was sitting on a bench in the gardens, enjoying a quiet moment as Master Nikolai went to talk business to some possible buyers for the Plisetsky’s horses. Viktor remained close by, in case his lord needed anything, but mostly he was allowed to do whatever he pleased at times like this. 

For a few days now he had been considering what to write for a next publication. He was not quite sure what he should do, trying not to be too forward nor entertain expectations of ever meeting this wonder in person, even the knowledge of someone in this island who understood him so was enough. Still, not replying to Eros had never been an option - the name itself lifted his spirits. 

“Mister Nikiforov?” A soft, familiar voice called, and he looked up to see Yuuri standing further down the cobblestone path. He wore that same blue dress - he had a pattern of sorts, always either in the blue, the grey or the dark green one since he’d arrived almost a month previous. Viktor had begun to worry those were all the ones he had brought, not because he didn’t look lovely in every way, but it was concerning that Yuuri would be ill prepared for a number of occasions.

“Mister Katsuki, enjoying the spring breeze?” He asked, getting up to join the other omega.

Yuuri looked down for a moment, a slight blush coloring his face as he adjusted his spectacles, steel frame delicate over his supple cheeks. “Indeed. Mister Crispino came over today to give Young Master Yuri lessons, so I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.”

“Well, I happen to have some free time as well, why don’t you join me for a bit? I’m afraid we haven’t had a chance to talk alone since you arrived.” And by God, did Viktor want to listen to everything Yuuri had to say and amass every little piece of information. 

“Oh, if it is not a bother I would very much enjoy talking to you, Mister Nikiforov.”

They sat together back on that same bench, the moment registering in Viktor’s mind as worth of a painting like the ones his mama used to love when she was alive, tender and colorful. 

“So, Mister Katsuki, how are dancing lessons going?” He asked, trying to ease into a conversation. 

Yuuri grimaced though. “I might need your kind assistance again soon, Yuri still seems to miss a dance’s nuances beyond sure steps and a firm stance, though at least those aspects don’t bear many flaws.”

Viktor had to focus not to jump at this opportunity, careful not to display how shamefully eager he was for another chance at proximity. “I’m sure Master Nikolai would have no problem with such a proposal. He seemed to have a great time as well last time. And it would certainly be my pleasure, you are a great dance partner, Mister Katsuki.”

Again the blush crept up Yuuri’s face, his shyness just too precious for Viktor not to melt over. It was on par with his underlying determination in fanning Viktor’s affections. 

The following topics remained placid. For a while they talked about the household, the horses, and Young Master Yuri, before Viktor decided it was time to be a bit bolder.

“Mister Katsuki, may I ask a personal question?”

Yuuri seemed caught off guard by the sudden change, but looked receptive as he turned to face Viktor, earnest even. “Of course. What is it, Mister Nikiforov?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t brought many clothes for your stay here. It does not seem very fitting of your status.” Viktor was more than familiar with the demands of upper class society, so Yuuri struck an odd cord in his simplicity. 

Yuuri stumbled with his words, obviously unready for Viktor’s question, and swiftly he longed to go back and stop himself from unbalancing their moment. It would not do to be crass and drive the governess away. Their stations were much too different, a simpleton like Viktor should know better than to overstep his boundaries. Only when Yuuri cleared his throat did his spiralling thoughts settle some.

“I’m afraid I left home in a distressed manner, and did not consider all aspects I should have. I’m trying to save up my salary so I can buy more proper sets. I certainly don’t wish to embarass or disrespect Master Nikolai.” 

Viktor was moved by such as open response, daring then to clasp Yuuri’s fidgeting hands. “There is no need for that! I have some fabric that would look good in a dress, and I could sew something for you, would just need another one for reference. If you’ll allow me, that is.”

Yuuri gaped in surprise, but did smile at last, genuine and warm. Viktor’s breath hitched, the will to earn more and more of those smiles warring with all reason within him. “You would do that? I do not want to bother you with my own problems, you do have Master Nikolai to attend to.”

“It’s not a bother at all. You are a part of our household now, and if it’s in my power to help you I surely will.”

-

It was dark outside, the house mostly silent as everyone else appeared to be already asleep. Viktor couldn’t bring himself to close his own eyes though, staring at the almost empty sheet of paper on his table, his mind wandering too much to settle on what to write. The day’s glimpses of Yuuri kept distracting him, his radiant skin, his soft smiles, his sure gazes.

As if by summon, someone right then knocked on his door. It could only be Yuuri himself, he assumed, there to lend Viktor one of his dresses. He rushed to open the door only to be faced with the most adorable blush and the breathtaking vision of Yuuri clad in delicate nightclothes, the omega’s long hair for once down, arranged in a loose braid Viktor longed to feel trailing his skin. It took a moment for him to compose himself, just then noticing the dark green dress in the other’s arms. 

“Mister Katsuki, do come in.” He stepped aside, leaving space for the governess to come into his room, trying not to feel too self conscious of how little they both wore at the moment. “I see you brought me a dress for reference. I shall do my best to be of service.” Excitement must have been clear in his voice, for he wasn’t much apt in hiding it in face of familiar company.

Yuuri looked tentative as their eyes met, cheeks reddened still.

“In fact, I came to the realisation that I might not be able to leave you with the dress, seeing as I don’t truly have spares.” Before Viktor could be hit by disappointment, he added, “so perhaps you could take my measurements, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Viktor’s heart skipped so many beats it was bound to have him faint. The prospect of this level of intimacy, of pressing so close to Yuuri’s nearly bare body… God would have to forgive him, for he certainly wasn’t going to let this chance slip by. So with a smile, subdued as he could make it, Viktor closed the door. “Your suggestion makes the most sense, indeed.” 

He rushed back to his table then, hastily exchanging his measuring tape for the terrible beginning of a poem he had for now, hiding it in the drawer before Yuuri could see it. The governess was so learned, he probably would recognize Viktor’s writing given half a chance, so it was preferable to err in the side of caution. When he turned around with the tape on hand, Yuuri was sheepishly unlacing his collar, night jacket already laid on the bed.

The image of Yuuri only in his nightgown would surely hunt Viktor’s sleep forever, from bare collarbones to pale ankles, too much skin for Viktor not to spend if only a moment in pure appreciation. He wished he could touch to his heart’s content, but wouldn’t possibly ever dare. After too long a moment he hurried over, gingerly placing the tape around that enticing waist. 

Unlike Mila, Yuuri remained perfectly still. It was most helpful, not that Viktor could compare to the abilities of the renowned Miss Crispino, but he would put all possible effort in giving Yuuri flattering garments. This man deserved to be able to leave charmed crowds in his wake. 

“Mister Nikiforov, may I ask you a question?” The question startled him from his concentration, but Viktor could never resent Yuuri for wanting to know more about him, quite the contrary in truth.

“Go ahead and ask, Mister Katsuki.”

For a moment the governess pondered before any words came forth. “How long have you been working here?”

Viktor was not used to talking much about himself, but he supposed there was no real issue in being honest to Yuuri. “Half of my life, really. I came to work here after my mothers died. Uncle Yakov was the only real family I had, and he’s been working here since _he_ was a youth himself. Luckily Master Nikolai took a liking to me. His only son had just moved abroad with wife and baby, and perhaps he missed having a younger presence around the house. He saw to my education, more so than I could have ever hoped for, and then appointed me as his first footman, unusual for omegas as this position is. He and Lilia reportedly see a lot of potential in me, I might yet be the first omega butler this island has ever seen.” Viktor ended in mild jest, coming to the realization he had been rambling, though at least taking measurements all the while. He looked up at Yuuri from his place now kneeling on the ground, and grimaced apologetically. “I’m sorry, I ended up giving a far longer answer than you requested.”

The governess shook his head, looking elsewhere. “Don’t apologise, I’m glad you shared this with me. I too could answer one question, if you’d like.” His tone was questioning, despite the affirmative. Viktor got up, finished with measurements for now, and Yuuri laced his gown again with care before reaching for the jacket, then surprisingly sat on the bed instead of heading for the door as expected. 

There were so many things he wished he could ask: why Yuuri had left his house in distress, if somewhere there was a beta fiancée that would one day whisk him away, and if not what he wanted to do when Master Yuri grew too old for lessons, but what he settled for was “Do you wish for a family someday?”

Yuuri seemed caught off guard, pondering for an instant before replying. “Well, everyone wants a family, do they not? Though I must admit it’s not truly a concern of mine at the moment.” Yuuri’s gaze skittered to the window, and Viktor wondered where his mind was taking him right then. “In complete honesty, Mister Nikiforov, I gave up on my best opportunity to build a family of my own, so if destiny decides I shall never have one I’ll abide.”

This glimpse of the real Yuuri, the one that lived surrounded by manners and status, made Viktor’s heart sing in affection towards him. He wanted to embrace Yuuri tight, to guarantee that he surely would have no problem in finding someone who loved him, or to say that he already had a family here and would be more than welcome to stay. Instead, he gave him the only thing he could offer right now. “I consider us good friends by now, Mr. Katsuki. Please, call me Viktor.”

-

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." For the first time in three months, Viktor came to confess. While his heart raced, he tried to gather strength to face Father Celestino’s words from the other side.

“Tell me your sins, child.”

His spirit had been overwhelmed as of late. Father Celestino already knew about Viktor’s impure thoughts towards other omegas, was the only one he’d ever told in fact. Even if he knew he was wrong, it felt good to open up at least. “Father, during these past months I have sinned greatly in mind. Our house has a new governess, and he brings forth the most improper desires on my part. He’s so tender and accomplished and I can talk to him like I was never able to with anyone before.” He paused to make sense of his turmoil of a mind, deciding what he absolutely should ask absolution for. “I have recently offered to make a dress for him, and I must admit that a prevalent reason is that I wished to see him look beautiful. And now I had him in my quarters at night to take measurements and seen so much of his body, and I _want_ him. I dream of taking him to bed, of touching him. I would never do such a thing, obviously I cannot drag him into sin with me. He deserves the world, Father, and I wish I could be a beta to give it to him, but then I would not be allowed these moments and they are far too precious for me to give up.”

Father Celestino sighed deeply, as he always did when Viktor came to him with his lust for an omega like him. He was an understanding man, but it was easy to see how such repetition could be tiring to deal with. Viktor had never changed and doubted he ever would, instead trying to accept eternal damnation in exchange for happiness in this life. 

“My child, you have come to me several times with similar matters, and I have informed you on just as many occasions that as long as you do no harm there’s no need for punishment. I trust you have not imposed your wills onto this young man. That said, I must remind you that such impure thoughts are not befitting of a good christian, so for that you shall pray to purge your soul each time something of the sort crosses your mind.”

Just like every time before, Father Celestino’s forgiveness came as a surprise, unexpected amidst the reproach he thrust upon himself. He couldn’t help but think his own wants vile, so against any property they were. An omega like him should never indulge on lust in the first place. 

Viktor whispered his thanks and prayers before getting up and stepping out of the confession booth. Yakov waited sat on a bench to the back of the church. His uncle was always the one to accompany him when he came, though Viktor never did share his worries. 

“Uncle Yakov, I’m finished.”

The beta got up as well, huffing as we was wont to do. He wasn’t very keen on socialising at all, and had always found Father Celestino a tad too boisterous. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing to need to confess so often, Vitya.” 

His only response was a dim apologetic smile, and they headed to their cart without another word. He didn’t believe Yakov would despise him for his urges, but it was still too personal and they weren’t very apt at sentimental conversations as it was. The return to the Plisetsky estate passed in silence, Viktor too distracted daydreaming to notice the worried looks coming his way.

-

For the last few days, Viktor had spent every spare moment either sewing for Yuuri or writing his reply to Eros, leading to much more delay at both than would have been expected. Nevertheless, now the dress was done (laid on Viktor’s bed for delivery that night, when Yuuri came over) and his poem was folded safely in an envelope Lilia had sent by morning. He’d considered delivering it to Christophe’s hands himself, but their only encounter that day would have Viktor serving as Master Nikolai’s footman, and it would not do to trespass his station in such a manner. 

Master Nikolai’s agenda included a lunch party with several members of what could be considered the upper class of their small town. It would be happening at Mister Giacometti’s house, as did many social gatherings of importance. In the carriage went just the two of them, a surprise in fact. Yuri would normally have come along for much needed high society company, heir of the Plisetsky business as he was. He wouldn’t dare to ask about it and cast doubt upon Master Nikolai’s judgement, but odd it was. 

“Viktor.” His lord’s voice broke the silence that had permeated most of the trip, rightfully entrapping his attention. “I would like to ask for your opinion on a certain matter. You see, I have been worrying for my grandson’s future. There is a lack of social gatherings in this town, and a young beta his age could enjoy the company of people his age, so I’m considering to start organizing balls myself. Try and get some lesser nobility to attend perhaps. Though I’m still not sure if Yuri would enjoy it.”

Viktor pondered for a moment, wishing to provide an useful insight. It’s clear that Young Master Yuri wasn’t naturally suited for social interactions at large, had proved to be the likes of an hermit, really. And among their neighbors only the Altin’s youngest child and the Leroy’s only son came close to his age - an omega and an alpha, both which would demand careful deliberation to be called upon. All the same, Viktor himself was excited at the prospect of a party, hadn’t been to one in years. He longed for the breath of life a social event would give the house, not to mention the champagne Mila was sure to sneak for them to taste.

“I don’t reckon Young Master Yuri will enjoy it, but I do think he needs it, sir. He lost his parents less than two years ago, which has been understandably hard on him, and I - pardon my assumptions - believe he’s clinging to isolation so as not to confront it. A lively gathering or two would do him some good.”

Nikolai nodded, looking out the window with an air of sadness to his person. Losing his only child had been such a difficult trial. Viktor remembered when the news had come, remembered desolate tears and having to call his Uncle to help carry their lord to bed. Nikolai’s countenance had been bleak until the boy arrived at the estate. Viktor had tried to be a comfort to Yuri, knowing the pain of being orphaned so young, but there was only so much he could achieve. 

The time for conversation was over though, as the carriage stopped by Christophe’s house and Viktor exited first, keeping the door open and lending a hand to Master Nikolai. They made their way to the door, being greeted there by their amiable host. “Lord Plisetsky, Mr. Nikiforov! I’m delighted that both of you decided to join me today.” He bowed much too low, over the top as usual, before allowing them in.

Master Nikolai chuckled at his manners. “Well, Mister Giacometti, you should be thankful indeed. Father Celestino did comment about the subversive material you’ve been publishing, my boy.”

Viktor felt a cold shiver down his spine, and his eyes met Christophe’s. Even if he hadn’t been the one to write the particular piece Nikolai was mentioning, he’d be caught in the implications in the end. Much to his luck, his friend didn’t seem to be shaken.

“Please, Mister Plisetsky, I’m just letting people’s voices be heard. Father Celestino knows very well that it was not addressed to him.”

“I’m aware, young man, no need to get defensive. I do appreciate your will to inspire thought in our community.”

Relief consumed him for just the slightest moment, because right them they were led inside, and Viktor had work to attend to.

**Author's Note:**

> The work we reference here is The Laws of God, the Laws of Man, written in 1922 by A.E. Housman, accessible in the Victoria Queer Archive. Bold af
> 
> Now a couple comments on worldbuilding!
> 
> As you’ve noticed, omegas and alphas wear dresses here, while betas go for the suits. Yuuri, being from high society, would need many more than three get ups to make a good impression. Longer hair is also considered the most appropriate for them.
> 
> For terms of address, since there’s no real social distinction between men and women, we went for Mister/Miss independent of marital status.
> 
> Last but not least, religion plays quite a role in their world view. Please excuse any misunderstandings concerning the workings of the catholic church, we’re both very much non religious. The 19th century makes for a great setting in this point (specially being vague in placement as we are here) given the many movements of all sorts going on then, from the most public to the most private faith, both restricted by governments and community built, so there’s that.
> 
> That’s all for now, feel super free to shoot us any questions or comments! We’ll come back with a third part soon enough
> 
> Many kisses,  
> Jana


End file.
